


Jurassic Stark: A New Kingdom Arises

by Kryptaria



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: For Science!, Poor Life Choices, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 08:25:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14421393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kryptaria/pseuds/Kryptaria
Summary: Why send Owen Grady and Claire Dearing to clear out Isla Nublar when you can send the Avengers instead?Because putting Tony Stark on an island full of dinosaurs is never a bad idea.





	Jurassic Stark: A New Kingdom Arises

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unbetaed Tumblr ficlet I wrote after half a cup of coffee. I want it to go somewhere. It's just a matter of where.

“Are we done?” Steve asked, not even out of breath despite the last thirty-six hours. He must’ve found a coffee cart that hadn’t been crushed, mangled, or eaten, because the super-soldier serum could only do so much. It had to be caffeine that let him keep a sharp eye on the T-rex he’d just flattened with one punch.

“For certain definitions of ‘done,’“ Natasha answered dryly. And she  _actually had a cup of coffee_. Completely unfair. Weren’t team members supposed to share?

Before Tony could ask, Sam landed on a patch of mostly-intact pavement, wisely keeping Cap between himself and the T-rex. “We must’ve put two hundred rounds into her, and you dropped her with one punch,” he said, pushing up his goggles so he could stare wide-eyed at Steve. “How the hell --”

“It’s not the first time we’ve faced one of these guys,” Bucky said, sniper rifle slung over his shiny black metal shoulder. He held up his other hand and said, “Toss me the first aid kit. Or do you want to take care of her?”

“Not on your damn life,” Sam said, reaching back to grab the compact medical kit -- Stark-issued, of course, and not some half-assed plastic box with a FEMA stamp of approval -- and threw it to Cap, who lobbed it over the fallen dinosaur to Bucky.

Tony finally cut his repulsors and landed over by Natasha. He flipped up his faceplate, hoping the fumes from her coffee would get at least a few caffeine molecules into his bloodstream. “Okay. Fun as this has been” -- which was a lie, because there was  _nothing fun at all_  about dodging dinosaurs that could fly, spit, leap a hundred feet out of water, or  _burrow underground what the fuck were you thinking Henry_  -- “I’m not seeing any non-mammalian or oversized life signs other than The Other Guy, who’s still digging through the gift shop.”

Bucky looked up from where he was playing the world’s most terrifying game of Operation. “For what?”

The rest of the team looked at him strangely, before Steve put it together first. “The Hulk likes” -- he made a sort of squishing gesture with his gloved hands -- “soft things.”

“He collects plushies,” Natasha said, somehow keeping a straight face.

 _How is this my life?_  Tony wondered, though he knew better than to ask. He just flipped the faceplate back down and asked, through his external speakers, “Is she tranqed yet?”

Natasha finished her coffee, tossed the cup in the last trash can still standing on the island, and unstrapped the thigh holster that had replaced the gun she usually carried. Tony’s biomed division had nearly quit en masse when he’d told them he needed an externally-mounted slow-delivery tranquilizer system  _for dinosaurs_  until he pointed out that the alternative was dinosaurs breaking free of Isla Nublar (again), eating their way through Central America (again, though that part was classified), and tearing down New York (which had only happened so far in a better class of monster movies, but that was their life these days).

She started prodding around the T-rex, looking for a vein or muscle or something (Tony hadn’t paid much attention to biomed’s briefing), then slapped the device onto the dinosaur’s leathery hide.

Satisfied that the team had things under control -- or as under control as things ever got, with them -- Tony launched into the sky. Isla Nublar was in a satellite dead zone (and damn Hammond, InGen, and every other “let’s monetize giant killing machines!” asshole out there), so he needed altitude for line-of-sight to the helicarrier he’d acquired from the Potomac after The Incident Nobody Discussed In Front Of The Winter Soldier.

After one happy chirp, his suit’s systems flooded him with data from all over the world, more soothing than stepping into a bubbling hot tub. An absent thought summoned the extraction and transport “specialists” -- as in, they’d trained in simulations for a whole ten hours, which meant half of them might get eaten -- while the rest of his mind focused on the top priority message flashing bright red in his consciousness.

“Your Highness. How’s it going?” he asked as soon as his systems connected with Wakanda’s (much faster, much more secure, not that Tony was jealous  _at all_ ) communications net.

“Excellent.” Princess Shuri sounded chipper, which was just fan-fucking-tastic. Tony braced himself, knowing where this conversation was going, and sure enough, she announced, “I’ve solved the missing DNA problem. Now I just need to resequence them properly. Send me all the dinosaurs.”

Tony blinked a couple of times, accidentally engaging his shoulder-mounted missiles. He hastily blinked (again) to disarm them before he could blow up the helicarrier (again). “All of them?”

“All of them.”

Tony was damn tempted to keep one or two of the smaller ones for his own work, but he had the sneaking suspicion that some of the flyers weren’t dinosaurs at all, but Wakandan drones using full-body photostatic veils to disguise themselves as pterosaurs or pterodactyls or whatever kept trying to eat him every time he’d taken to the sky. She probably had a more accurate body count than he did.

“Including,” she continued ominously into the silence, “the dead ones.”

Tony made damn sure his comms were muted and indulged in one long, heartfelt sigh. Wakanda had financed this excursion as part of their global outreach program, because while sharing medical and clean energy advances were great and all (and had tanked Stark Industries’ stocks for a few nerve-wracking days), keeping the dinosaurs from starting dinopocalypse was about a hundred times better for publicity.

Hell, Tony was lucky he’d gotten the Avengers to take the lead. Otherwise, Wakanda could’ve sent in their army to take down the whole island themselves, and the Avengers would be lucky if they could get gigs doing kids’ birthday parties.

Unmuting, Tony said, “You got it, Your Highness,” as cheerily as he could manage, which wasn’t very.

“Thanks. I’ll be sure to send you my results,” Shuri answered, cutting the line without adding something snarky about “using small words you can understand” thankfully. It wasn’t Tony’s fault he didn’t do biological systems.

Yet.


End file.
